Sharing Is Caring

A Cake Without Taste

Context: I had a theory/headcanoning session with a friend in the Dummy's Dummy discord server (link will be at the end of the fic) that Polakov was made first before Paris.

Basically, a small story of Polakov (the clown) and Paris

>o<

Paris always knew something was wrong.

He doesn't say anything when he watches Polakov grip a little too hard onto the toy they've been trying to catch. He doesn't stare when he hears Polakov raising his hammer and swinging it down too hard. He doesn't listen when he sees the shadow of Polakov looming over behind him ominously.

Because to show that you're afraid would be a bad choice against his own pride and it's already embarrassing enough that each toy that he encounters with enough "brain cells" always refers to Paris as their little brother.

Paris doesn't question Ivan when he chooses Polakov to come aid Paris on this long task of his, mostly due to the fact that he had been made to never disobey him. Who was he to question his maker after all? He doesn't do this because he wants to, he does this because he was made to do so. Polakov often reminds him about this.

"Humans are fragile, are they not? That's why we're doing his dirty work." Polakov is still ever smiling as he trails the path of a rogue toy, most likely out for blood like many others. "If we break, we can be fixed. If he breaks..."

"He's gone forever." Paris finishes. Something about forever leaves Paris feeling rather...uncomfortable.

The idea of death itself shouldn't be so terrifying. He's soulless, he can't die. He can only be broken, fixable to some extent, but if he breaks he's gone. Not dead.

Just gone.

Paris does more housekeeping that Polakov does. It's something Paris chooses to do because he can't stand the mess in this house. He regularly spends more time with Ivan, and Polakovs loves to say it's because, "You're his most treasured possession, Paris. You were made to his liking, not another's."

"What about you?" Paris asks, curious since Polakov was made before he was.

"I? Well, I was an accident of course. A happy accident." Polakov's laugh is cold, and it unnerves Paris. Polakov never laughs, ironically enough. "Clowns are, as you would know, cheeky bastards, aren't they? I became the exact opposite, which sprang about a brilliant idea to create you!"

Paris never knew what Polakov was implying everytime he said that, and Paris never will.

Because Paris always knew something was wrong.

"Hesitant, are we now, Paris?" Polakov whispers and Paris has his knife right above the toy's throat. There is a difference between popping their heads off and severing the one thing connecting their heads to their bodies.

Paris isn't even sure why Polakov isn't resisting. Regardless, he has to do what must be done, even if it's killing- no, breaking the one person he had ever considered as an actual brother. Polakov isn't dying. He's just being broken.

Polakov can't die if he wasn't alive in the first place.

"Have you gone soft because of Ivan, Paris?" Polakov sneers in mockery, with a curious, concerned tone. "He's only human, Paris. You'll never be like him or be seen as anything equal."

The tip of Paris' knife barely glazes the skin-like surface of Polakov's neck as it slowly lowers. He doesn't want to do this, Paris realizes, but he has to.

"Oh, don't cry," Polakov says, and his smile seems more genuine for the first time in ages. "I won't be gone forever."

And Paris hates forever. But just like Polakov's smile, for the first time ever, he wishes this would be forever.

The knife lowers swiftly and the light that sparkled in Polakov's eyes with cunning mischief disappears.

The whole time Polakov is laughing. He never laughs.

Lovely art done by Pancake! (@cup_o_pencil on instagram; https://www.instagram.com/cup_o_pencils/ )

But it was posted on the Dummy's Dummy discord server; https://discord.gg/FfRYWpMQ8k